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Chapter Thirty-Six

Korik

Four Months Later

When the snows began to melt, and green grass began pushing its way up through the ground, Korik and Varen left Drol Kuggradh. Their trip to Aefraya was easy and fast. Now that winter was over, and the first signs of spring had begun, the roads were busy with merchants and other travelers.

When they departed, they were both entirely free. Korik’s shop was packed up and closed down: everything he would bring with them was either carried on his back, or in one of the many packs loaded up on their mule. Varen had arranged his retirement and was released from duty just a week before they planned to leave, using his newfound free time to help prepare for their imminent journey. Korik found it strange to see his home empty, knowing he would likely never return. Strange, but it hadn’t exactly been sad, either.

Varen had been very happy to be on their way. They had received a letter just before his retirement that Enriel had delivered a son; the missive reported that both she and the baby were healthy and were looking forward to seeing him soon. He’d written back eagerly that he would be leaving soon with Korik, and hopefully they should arrive before the child was a month old.

The miles went by quickly, each of them on horseback and the mule tethered to Varen’s gelding. Varen was just as chatty, but this time his voice constantly had a warm, fond tone as he spoke, and Korik didn’t shy away from adding to the conversation. They talked and told stories, and Varen even sang a few marching songs—the elf could barely hold a tune, which once might have irritated Korik, but now only amused him endlessly.

He’d never thought that he could be so happy on the road with Varen, but he’d given up trying to make sense of it all.

Roz was usually curled up atop the packs on the mule, or sometimes perched on Korik’s shoulder, or in his tunic the way he’d used to carry K’lir. The razorfang kit was now nearly twice the size of Roz, much too large for Korik to easily carry. Luckily, he was content to follow on foot—sometimes dashing off the path to climb a tree or catch prey, but always returning when Korik called him.

They passed by Castle Aefraya and continued south, all the way to Varen’s hometown. It was a village nestled along a river, with several rice fields and a handful of other farms on the outskirts. Varen pointed out every farmhouse and building as they made their way down the village’s main road, and they were stopped often to greet villagers who recognized Varen, or who were curious about Korik.

Varen’s family cottage was at the far end of the village, where they grew rice and raised livestock. The cottage was made of stone with a thatched roof and glass-paned windows; a small barn sat a little ways behind it, and a wooden fence surrounded the property. Korik could hear the clucking of chickens and the bleating of goats in the fenced-off yard.

The door to the cottage swung open as they approached, revealing Enriel beaming at them. With one arm she waved; in the other, she cradled a bundled-up baby.

“Enriel,” Varen said, the name coming out as a relieved sigh. Before they had set out, he had confided to Korik that he was worried about her. The letter informing them of her safe delivery had been an immense relief to him; but he still fretted over how she would fare back in their hometown, how long she might remain with their parents and brother, and how she would adapt to being a mother.

But her smile was bright as she waved to them, and she burst into laughter as Varen all but leapt off his horse and ran to her. Korik watched him stop abruptly, and instead of throwing his arms around her as he so obviously wanted to, he gave her a gentle hug. Korik got off his own horse much more calmly, then led all three beasts into the yard. K’lir had been leashed to him as they entered the city, just to ensure there was no trouble. He was clearly more interested in the sounds of livestock than anything happening in front of them, but followed Korik obediently—Roz trotted curiously behind him, ensuring he behaved.

“I’m so glad to see you both,” Enriel chuckled. “It’s going to be a full house. Auntie Laena is still here, too. Mother and Father have been equal parts insufferable and invaluable, as I’m sure you can imagine, Varen.”

“And Caedes?” Varen asked, grinning at her.

“A surly teenager, as always,” she sighed, but then smiled down at the infant in her other arm. “He does like being an uncle, though.”

“What name did you decide on?” Varen asked, peering down at the child.

To Korik’s surprise, she looked shyly at him before answering. “His name is Cyrin. It comes from the elven word cyraes — steadfast.”

Korik felt himself freeze in shock. She had named her son steadfast, after him. It was not exact—elves did not have the given titles orcs received upon adulthood—but the sentiment was there.

He blinked rapidly against the tears that were suddenly welling in his eyes. Her shy smile up at him faltered, but he spoke quickly,

“That’s a—a good name. Thank you, Enriel. This is a great honor.”

She beamed up at him, clearly pleased. “You saved both our lives. It’s the least I could do.”

“Is Varen here?” a voice called from within the cottage. Laena appeared behind Enriel in the doorway, a smile splitting her face. “There he is! And Healer Korik, too. We’re so pleased to have you here. Caedes, come and help with the horses!”

There was a flurry of activity as all of Varen’s family came bustling out of the cottage, leaving Korik with no time to sort through his feelings about the child’s name. It was not exactly how Korik would have wanted to meet Varen’s entire family, but it couldn’t be helped.

Varen’s parents greeted him kindly. His father, Cendel, looked just like Varen, and he gave Korik a firm handshake; while his mother, Faerel, clasped his hand with both of hers and thanked him profusely for saving Enriel. Their youngest brother, Caedes, looked up at him with some apprehension at first, but Varen had warned him it would likely be so—teenage boys had more similarities than not, whether elf or orc, it seemed. The family resemblance was strong now that Korik had seen them all: they all had the same raven-black hair and hazel eyes, except Faerel’s and Caedes’ eyes were a darker brown.

Laena chatted with him amicably as she led him and Caedes to help put the horses and mule out to pasture. Caedes was sullen and silent, but his eyes brightened when he finally noticed K’lir following Korik.

“You can have these as a pet?” the boy asked, looking curiously down at K’lir.

“He is not a pet,” Korik replied quickly, then hesitated. “He is mostly tame, though. His name is K’lir. Offer him your hand, and you may pet him.”

He and Laena finished with the horses as Caedes occupied himself with K’lir, Roz observing from Korik’s shoulder.

“Varen told us about you two in his letter,” Laena said softly, as they were brushing down the horses. Korik flushed, but nodded resolutely—he had known the contents of Varen’s letter. “Enriel and I weren’t surprised, of course. His parents were a little... uncertain at first. But after everything we’ve told them, they have a glowing opinion of you. I think they were more shocked he was retiring than anything else. So don’t be too nervous. They like you already.”

He had been anxious about meeting Varen’s family, but so far, it was going well enough.

“Thank you,” he said softly. And when she smiled up at him, he even managed a small smile back.

When they rejoined the rest of the family in the cottage, dinner was being set out. Korik moved to help, but Enriel waved him over to where she was sitting, the baby in her arms. As he approached, he could see that the child was awake and alert, his big, dark eyes looking around the room. He had a dusting of black hair on his head, and his ears came to tiny points. When his eyes found Korik, he stared and didn’t look away. Here in the village, Korik doubted he had ever seen an orc before.

But with any luck, he thought, he would be in this child’s life for a long time.

“Come sit,” Enriel said. “You’re a guest. Mother would never let you help.”

“I see,” Korik said, sitting down stiffly beside her.

“Do you want to hold him?” she asked with a smile. After a beat, he nodded.

He had held many babies before, some the moment they were born. Still, his heartbeat quickened as Enriel passed the tiny elf into his waiting arms. He was so much smaller than orc babies, so much slimmer, even swaddled in warm blankets. It felt different, holding this infant that he knew, that he had so quickly come to care for.

“He recognizes you,” Enriel murmured, stroking the baby’s cheek with one finger. “Don’t you, Cyrin? You know that’s your uncle.”

The baby made a soft cooing noise and yawned. His little limbs squirmed against his blankets, then relaxed again. His throat tightened with unshed tears all over again—it felt as though he had cried more in these months with Varen than ever before in his life, mostly from joy.

Still, he did not want the whole elf family to see him cry over the baby, so he cleared his throat and looked at Enriel.

“How have you been faring?” he asked, and she laughed.

“It’s been a challenge, of course,” she said, sighing. “I never thought I’d come back to our little farm village. But for now, I’m happy here.”

“I’m glad,” Korik replied. After a beat, he added softly, “We’re happy to be here, too.”

She leaned against his shoulder, looking fondly down at her son. They sat there together until they were called away for supper.

The cottage was not built for so many people, so Korik and Varen both had to sleep out in the sitting room. But it was just as well; Korik wouldn’t have fit in any elven bed anyway, and this way they got to sleep beside each other. It was much more comfortable than sleeping outdoors, to be sure.

As they prepared for bed that night, Varen was all smiles in the candlelight.

“You’re happy,” Korik remarked, laying down beside him.

“I’m very happy,” Varen murmured. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“Did you already know Enriel named the boy after me?” Korik asked softly, and Varen shook his head.

“No. But I’m not surprised,” he said.

“Did your parents say anything to you about us? Me?” he asked, and Varen chuckled.

“No. They know I’m very much a grown man, and I’m going to do what I want,” he said, then added in a softer tone, “But they like you already. Their grandson is named after you. Enriel loves you. I love you. What is there to protest?”

Korik smiled in return. Varen leaned over, closing the space between them, and kissed him.

“I love you,” he repeated, just above a whisper.

“I love you, too,” Korik echoed, wrapping his arms around the elf as he settled down beside him.

They stayed with Varen’s family for two weeks before preparing to leave again—once again into the north, this time to find the mountain clan led by Rhagir. Laena would leave at the same time, traveling with them a few days north to Castle Aefraya, before parting ways.

To Korik’s surprise, it was Enriel who was most concerned about their plans. When Varen had explained to his parents that he and Korik would join the mountain clan together—or if they were no longer welcome, they instead intended to travel the mountainous region for a time, before coming further south once again—the pair had seemed a little uncertain, but supportive.

Laena had remarked that any clan should be glad to have a healer and a ranger as well-suited as they were; Caedes had no outward reaction; but Enriel’s brow remained furrowed the whole time. Later, she had taken them both aside to talk privately on the matter.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked them, worry evident in her tone. “Will you be safe traveling in an orc clan? Both of you?”

Korik started to speak, but Varen beat him to it.

“Of course we’ll be safe,” he said, smirking. “We’ve met these people before, and they were perfectly polite. Very helpful, in fact. It was Korik who was invited directly, sure, but they were nice enough to me.”

Enriel looked unconvinced. Varen added with a chuckle, “And I’ve been practicing my orcish, too, so that should be another point in my favor.”

She finally laughed at that, but when she glanced at Korik, a hint of worry still lingered in her face.

“He’s right,” Korik said softly. Without thinking, he reached for Varen’s hand and interlaced their fingers. “They very much wanted me to stay. I’m sure they would welcome Varen, too, knowing we come as a pair. But even if they don’t, we’ll be alright. We’ll explore somewhere a little safer for two travelers. And we will send letters either way.”

Enriel glanced between the two of them. He couldn’t blame her for being worried. He had felt anxiety of his own—wondering how well Varen would take to life in a clan, and how easily he would be able to get back into such a different way of life—but everything he said was the truth. Rhagir had been desperate for him to stay. She had been suspicious of the elf, but not at all hostile, even going out of the way to give Varen a cloak and snowshoes that would fit him.

And if not... He wasn’t sure what, exactly, they would do if that came to pass. They had a vague plan to travel to the southern foothills of the Krag Gabriz and roam there for a little while, but anything beyond that was unknown. They had agreed that they would take things as they came, so it was be a problem for another day.

“We make a very resourceful team, you know,” Varen said, leaning closer to Korik.

A smile spread across Enriel’s face as she lifted her hands in an appeasing gesture.

“Alright, alright,” she chuckled. “I suppose you’ve convinced me. Gods, I don’t know how you two went from barely tolerating each other to being all over each other so quickly.” Her eyes softened. “But I’m glad. Take care of each other out there, alright?”

“We will,” Korik said, nodding gravely. Varen only snorted, but when Enriel reached for him, he hugged her back fiercely.

And that was that. They finished packing their things, and the next day gathered their horses, the mule, Roz, and K’lir, then said their goodbyes. The whole family had gathered in the yard again to see them off.

“Make sure to write to us,” Cendel said to Varen. Despite the gravity of his tone, his eyes crinkled in a smile.

“I packed some extra sweet rolls for you both, so don’t let them get squished,” Faerel said, lightly touching Korik’s arm. “Make sure he gets enough to eat, alright?”

“I will,” Korik agreed.

“If you find another cat like K’lir, I want one,” Caedes said. Varen patted his shoulder with a laugh.

“I don’t think Mother and Father would agree,” he said, then leaned in closer to his youngest brother with a conspiratorial whisper. “No promises, but I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Stay safe, both of you,” Enriel urged, embracing Varen when he turned to her. Cyrin was in a sling strapped to her chest, and he let out a squeal as he was pressed between the two of them. Varen laughed and leaned down to kiss the baby’s cheek. Enriel grabbed Varen’s face with both her hands before he could straighten back up, forcing them to be eye-to-eye. “I’m serious! Be careful. You can always come home. Always.”

Varen’s expression softened. “I know,” he replied, and he leaned in to kiss her cheek, too. “You worry too much. We’ll be perfectly fine. And if we aren’t, we’ll come right back. Isn’t that right, love?”

It felt like everyone’s eyes landed on Korik all at once. He felt a flush rising in his face, but when he smiled, it didn’t feel forced.

“Of course,” he agreed simply. This seemed to be assurance enough. Enriel released Varen to hug Korik. Cyrin squealed again, caught in the middle. Korik embraced them both.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “You were the first to be so kind to me. I will always appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Enriel replied, grinning up at him. “It was easy.”

Korik’s heart squeezed. He had never expected to be welcomed so readily, so fully, into an elven family; but here they were. If he could integrate with the elves so easily, he had no doubt Varen would fit in with the orcs just as well.

“We’d best be off,” Laena called from the front gate; she had already mounted her horse. “We’re burning daylight!”

“And that’s our cue,” Varen said, grinning up at Korik. “We’ll be in touch, everyone. See you soon.”

They joined Laena at the gate as the family called out their goodbyes, and then they were on the road again. Varen was silent as they passed through the village and eventually rejoined the main road, traveling back the way they had come just a few weeks ago. Laena let them go ahead, trailing a bit behind, as K’lir made her mare nervous.

“What are you thinking?” Korik asked after several long minutes of silence passed. Varen looked up at him and grinned.

“Just looking forward to our next adventure,” he said, his eyes sparkling. Korik chuckled.

“Are you sure?” he asked, and Varen laughed.

“That I love you and want to travel with you forever?” he replied, mouth curled in a teasing grin that made Korik’s heart stutter. How had he ever gotten so lucky? “Yes, I’m quite sure.”